Modern Assassin
by Lady Schnabel
Summary: Altmal in drabble formant. Altair finishes a mission and heads to the bureau. Many thanks to Allahdammit from deviantart for inspiration!  rated M to be safe.


Altair panted. His breath came out heavy and suppressed into the cold air of December. He quickly scanned each ends of the alleyway he was hiding. Police siren rumbled from far away and a couple helicopters roamed the night sky like hovering falcons, beaming white searchlights. He grinned. Sharpe heat and excitement lingered on his body. It was like the dangerous thrill that shortly follows after the pitch of orgasm. A faint smile spread like a drop of oil penetrating a paper – and Altair couldn't stop it. Another successful mission, another Templar down, and another productive night for an Assassin.

Taking off his helmet, Altair sighed. The bureau was still blocks away. It would take a good twenty minutes to walk there, since he dared not to take a risk of running on rooftops. He was already lucky enough to make an escape with two choppers on his tail. Or it could have been Rebecca's work. Either way, Altair was not much of an idiot that he used to be. So there was not a chance that he will drag the bike to the bureau. The bureau manger would kill him when he realises that the bike was abandoned - since it was leased from the Headquarter – but it would be better than another rescue mission.

Altair took his good leather jacket and boots off. He then shoved them into his backpack and took other daggy jacket and runners out. They were almost useless in freezing weather like this, but they were also a good disguise. He took a muffler out and wrapped his neck with it. A pair of glasses(borrowed from the bureau manager) and a thick chemistry book followed next. Then he walked out from the stench-filled alley, pretending to be a cold, hungry and broke uni student hurrying to his shared apartment in a bitter December night. Soon after he walked out, a police car passed him by. They were too busy looking for the hitman, so a poor university nerd didn't draw much of their attention.

The walk to bureau was not much of an adventure. Altair found a couple drunken teens who probably had a night out at their friend's place, but they were busy vomiting and rolling in their filth. He hurried through the dead street of 2.30am where feral cats ruled under pale yellow streetlights. Cars appeared from the far end of street, casting headlights that resemble owls' eyes in dark nights and leaving thick fumes that irritated Altair's nose. He was already tired from blood and ammunition.

When Altair finally arrived at the bureau building, the old three story apartment with a perfumery on the ground floor, its windows were dark and the front entrance was locked as usual. He grumbled. It was as he expected, but he just wanted to skip all the climbing and jumping part. Yet he did it anyways for the sake of his sore back and the warm bed where Malik would be sleeping now. So he walked around, reached the back of the building where it faces a filthy alleyway and started climbing.

The third floor window was left unlocked. Altair threw his bag in first then stepped inside. The air was warm and filled with sweet scent of sandalwood and silence. Altair smiled. He was home, and in safety.

Altair closed the window and walked to the fridge. He took a bottle of water out. Malik must be awake now. He always slept shallow, waking up from the smallest noises like footsteps of a cat or Altair's occasional mumbles.

Altair took his muffler and jacket off. The bottle was empty by then. Throwing them on the couch carelessly, he walked into the bureau manager's private quarter. Malik stared him with sleepy eyes.

'Hey.' Malik murmured, shifting a little.

'Don't sit up.' Altair whispered, leaving a kiss on his lover's lips. Altair sat there on the edge of the bed and kicked his shoes and socks off.

'Wasn't going to, moron.' Malik snorted. 'how'd it go?'

'Talal is gone.' Altair answered simply.

'One less people smuggler in the world is always good.' Malik said. He moved a bit, making some space for Altair on the small single bed. Altair snuggled into the warm bed and put his arms around the ever-grumpy man.

'Christ, your hands,' Malik muttered, wiggling. 'Fucking freezing.'

'Well, sorry. I had to walk all the way here from Kingsway road.'

'What?' Malik almost jolted up, only to be held down by Altair. 'Where's the bike?'

'I hid it in an alley. Hey, don't worry. You can send a novice to find it tomorrow.'

'If that disappears overnight, we're all dead. Ezio will kill us all.'

Altair hummed. He was grinning like a madman, just so grateful to be there threatened for nothing from his lover, after a mission that could be his last one ever.

'You stink.' Malik grumbled, nuzzling into the crook of Altair's neck.

'Whatever. Give me a bath tomorrow.'

Malik snorted. As if, he wanted to say, but fatigue was once again creeping over him and Altair was getting warmer. He could nag Altair in the morning.


End file.
